


The Great Spring

by LadyBee



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Beltane, F/M, Honor the Old Gods, Pagan Gods, Paganism, Ritual Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 03:54:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12027570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBee/pseuds/LadyBee
Summary: Septons would say that Lord Stark’s wedding had been a horrendous demonstration of sacrilege and dark magic. If that was the case, nobody ever complained about it for that year had been known for the centuries to come as The Great Spring.





	The Great Spring

He looked ahead to face the magnificent creature quietly chewing fresh leaves. The stag seemed unaware of the perils in the woods, or simply receptive to the idea of a quick death. Twelve points and big enough to feed the whole party during the celebrations. The skin would make a suitable wedding gift for the new Lady Stark, while the head would go to King’s Landing to serve as his own trophy.

It had been ages since Jon last engaged in a hunt just for the fun of it. The King found the sport to be as thrilling and invigorating as he remembered, but there was more to that hunt than he could tell. The wildlings and mountain clans had a similar tradition about it...The first seeding during the Spring should be celebrated with a ceremonial hunt, along with music, dancing, roaring bonfires and sacrifices to honor and thank the gods.

He had never taken part in such an extravagant celebration, but since Bran invited him to his wedding King Jon thought the other celebrations to be just as relevant and symbolic.

It should have been the bridegroom to lead the hunt, prove his virility and bless the land with fertility. Since Bran’s legs would never allow him to perform such a ritual, Jon had accepted to perform the role in his place. If the gods were good, there would be a bountiful harvest to feed the whole country soon and if it took a hunt to please the gods, than Jon would play the humble and dutiful king. With his sweaty body half naked and covered in symbols drawn all over his skin with coal and blue paint, Jon thought himself to be way more powerful and bold than he really was.

Jon lose the arrow and it cut the air with striking precision. The stag’s massive body fell to the ground with a loud noise.

The other men stepped forward to take their prey back to camp built outside the castle walls. There was loud talking as they took the path back to Stark’s lands while drinking and babbling about their war tales and deeds.

“Let us hope your performance will grant Lord Stark vigor during his wedding night.” Tormund said it in his usually boisterous and loud voice. It was a silly idea, and yet most of the wildlings believed the ceremony to be true. As if a hunt could miraculously heal Bran’s legs and allow him to consummate his wedding to Lady Meera. “Poor lad. He could certainly do with some action. His lady is way too pretty to die a maiden and you kneelers are way to strange for me to understand.”

“It was Lady Meera’s decision to accept his proposal and I won’t question either of them in the matter.” Jon answered sadly as they got out of the woods carrying the dead stag. “I truly hope that my cousin will find a way to make this marriage work for both of them. Who knows the extension of his powers at this point?!”

Tormund shrank his shoulders and simply pass him the skin full with strong ale for the King to drink. To get drunk as an easier task than to guess the gods’ doings.

The bitter taste of it was soothing and welcome to his tongue. The hunt and the excitement had wakened his thirst and hunger at that point. Not the kind of need that could be settled with a sip of fine wine, or a piece of tasteful wedding pie. The King’s mouth craved for the rough and rich tastes of dark northern ale and roasted venison. He could already imagine the taste of it and the fat dripping from his mouth and fingers as he sat by the bonfires.

The festivities have allowed the King a simpler kind of entertainment and during those days he would allow himself to be carefree for a while.

At the center of the camp a pole had been erected and decorated with colorful ribbons and wild flowers hanging from the top of it. The children danced around it, each one holding to a piece of ribbon until the pole was all colorfully wrapped. Piles of fire wood had been build all over the fields to light the bonfires at dawn. Women wore garlands made of fresh flowers on their heads and wore light dresses to suit the unusually hot weather. Jugglers, mummers, dancers and musicians kept the guests entertained until the wedding.

Jon had never seen Winterfell or the North in such a colorful way, but he found it to be a lovely experience. He looked across the crowded camp and spot Arya playing with some kids and teaching them her “dancing movements” using branches as play swords.

He couldn’t help smiling at the sight of his cousin. Just like the other women Arya wore flowers in her hair and wore a dress of fine linen painted in pale green with a simple leather belt around her waist. She looked like a spirit of the forest and moved like breeze.

She might have felt his gaze upon her graceful figure. Arya turned her face to find him there, all covered in sweat, blood and painting as if he were some sort of barbarian warrior. Her mouth curved in a mischievous grin as she lowered her gaze. Her cheeks were flushed. _Beautifully flushed. She looks like Spring itself._

The King walked toward her as he felt suddenly bold and vigorous. What harm would come from it anyway? They have always been close before the war and he hadn’t been able to talk to her properly since he arrived at Winterfell. _I should demand her presence at the capitol. I should name her a lady of my court and just find a pale excuse to summon her to my presence. A King shouldn’t be denied in his wishes._ Those thoughts were dangerous and persistent.

“And who are you?” Arya asked teasingly once he reached her. “Some sort of demon?”

“I’m suppose to look like the First Man during their rituals. “He answered uncertain of that information. “The drawings are symbols of strength, courage...”

“Virility.” She completed with a hint of malice to her voice before taking the tankard from his hand to drink the ale. “It’s a celebration of fertility after all.”

“And you? How are you supposed to be?” He asked as his eyes scanned her slender and gracious body.

“Just a maiden like all others.” She answered simply. “Or Earth itself, ready to receive the seeds and bless humans with harvest. I wonder why we’ve never seen such a celebration before. It’s so vibrant and funny.”

“Indeed...We have the mountain clans and the wildlings to thank for that. It could become a new tradition.” He answered with a full smile. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you like this more often.”

“I feel a bit silly, but it’s so hot today that I almost feel as if I were in King’s Landing.” She said shyly. “Bran asked for an unusual wedding celebration. There’s sun and warmth, music, dancing, drinking, games and all sorts of things happening...He said he will have it publicly performed in front of the heart tree tomorrow. Today is a day to celebrate his love for Meera and to thank everyone for their efforts during winter and war.”

“He does have a loving heart, doesn’t he?” Jon pointed. “Tomorrow he will marry her then? I thought the whole point of the hunt was to...Never mind.”

“To bless their wedding night?” She smirked at him. “He took her to the godswood before the sun rise. I saw them fastening their hands together and saying the words. Tomorrow will be just for the sake of formality, but he has already promised his heart to her. Gods...Please allow my brother to be happy in his marriage. He certainly deserves it.”

“That’s why you accepted to dress like a lady for a change?” Jon asked with a fond smile.

“Anything to make him happy. Besides...I find it to be quite comfortable.”

Arya turned her back at him walked away carrying his ale. If anything the sight of her only made him even more thirsty and hungry.

The sun was setting in the horizon when the fires were lit. Ale and wine were served in large quantities as the smell of roasted meat filled the air. Lutes, pipes and drums started to play several songs and every now and then Jon would recognize the lyrics.

He noticed it when a singer keeled in front of Arya as he sang his tune.

 

“ __My featherbed is deep and soft,  
and there I’ll lay you down,  
I’ll dress you all in yellow silk  
and on your head a crown.  
For you shall be my lady love,  
and I shall be your lord.  
I’ll always keep you warm and safe,  
and guard you with my sword.”

 

Jon dried his cup in a single gulp as he witnessed the man’s  audacity . Arya laughed and giggled at it without paying the singer much attention. She was Lord Stark’s sister and cousin to the King. A man as lowborn as that should never dream of courting her, let alone being so bold with his songs.

Yet Jon realized how much the lyric suited his own humors and wishes. He should had given her a crown a long time ago, and yet he hadn’t found the courage to do so. Arya never craved for silks, a crown or his protection, just like the maiden of that song.

“ _And how she smiled and how she laughed, the maiden of the tree._  
She spun away and said to him,   
no featherbed for me.  
I’ll wear a gown of golden leaves,  
and bind my hair with grass,  
But you can be my forest love,  
and me your forest lass.”

 

He would count himself blessed is Arya would have him be her forest love, or whatever she wanted to call him. That night he was no king and no different from other hundreds of young men. Helplessly drunk and lusty over a maiden as fair as Spring and as merciless as Winter.

Arya danced around the bonfires with other women. The sight of her small bare feet made him uncomfortable inside his trousers. _It has been too long since I last had a woman. I must be mad._

“You can either pick a lady, or you can be picked by one.” Tormund’s voice sounded behind him. Alysanne Mormont was safely guarded by his massive arms as of it nothing of consequence was going on. “If you will just look at it you are missing half the celebration.”

It was a celebration of life and love, he understood. A festival to thank for the good weather, the warm fire and ask for a good harvest. _A time for virility and fertility to play their roles...I guess it makes sense._

He could see other men looking at her. He could see them moving and preparing to approach Arya or any other girl to take them for a more convenient place. That couldn’t be. Arya wasn’t available for the taking. She belonged to him or at least she should.

The beating of the drums was so fast and contagious at that point that Jon looked around to find several couples being silly and lusty. There was some playfulness to their games, like chasing the maids or spinning them in the air.

He was so fucking drunk that everything was kind of blurry except for Arya dancing around him.

“Why so serious?!” She asked before a loud laugh. She was drunk too.

“I guess I had too much ale.” He said soberly. “You shouldn’t be here. It1s not safe for a lady.”

“Why is that?” She asked teasingly as she smiled at him with wicked intelligent playing behind her eyes.

“Someone could try to...” He took a deep breath. “Dishonor you.”

“I would like see them trying.” Her smile grew broader. “I may be a lady, but I’m far from being helpless. Besides...” With a swift movement of her hands, Arya took Longclaw out of it’s scabbard to Jon’s utter surprise. “I’m faster than you think!”

She turned her back at him and ran as fast as she could carrying his sword.

Jon ran after her as Arya got into the woods. He could feel the same adrenaline that had filled his system during the hunt. It was exciting and alluring to think of her as his new prey while they indulged such a mischievous play.

His heart echoed the sound of the distant drums once he reached the godswood. Arya stopped suddenly once her bare feet touched that holly soil. A fire had been lit there as well, to make sure people wouldn’t get lost in the woods for long.

Arya’s hair was messy, her dress dirty and her breath uneven. Jon marveled at the sight of her pink cheeks as the light danced all over her face.

He approached her carefully and with a precise movement he took his sword back and stick it to the ground.

“Another fruitful hunt.” He said with a grin.

“I’m not a deer to be hunt.” Arya answered before trying to escape him once more.

His arms caught her in a tight grip and pressed her against the heart tree.

“No...” He whispered closed to her face. “You are my wildest dream ready to be conquered.”

Without second thoughts or hesitation his mouth claimed hers with a proper man’s hunger. Arya’s arms immediately held to his neck and shoulder deepening the kiss and filling it with lust.

In the back of his mind the drums were still playing their rhythm and dictating the pace of their caresses. Somewhere in the darkness of the woods, he could also hear the sounds of other couples making love and honoring the gods in the old ways. It was a celebration of fertility after all and lust was as much a part of the rites as the fires and the hunt.

Was that moment a work of the old gods? Were they demanding the King to pay them true homage by taking a woman to fulfill the most sacred ritual of all? That would be a blessing indeed.

His hands unbuckled her belt as Jon buried his nose in the curve of Arya’s neck. He could feel her whole body pressed against his while he kissed her neck and shoulders.

Arya scratched his back as Jon removed her dress slowly until she was completely naked and exposed to his touch. His rough hand cupped her breast. He could feel her nipple hardening against his palm as he kissed her mouth again and again.

Jon couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching them at that very moment. Eyes hidden in the darkness of the forest as he laid her on the ground to worship her breasts and belly with his mouth and tongue. The thought was powerful and as arousing as Arya’s shameless moans as he kissed her belly.

_Be my witness tonight._

Arya spread her legs to accommodate him properly. He should be gentle and tender, but the sound of the distant drums made it almost impossible to handle the moment with delicacy. There was something primal about his hunger and urge. Arya didn’t seem to mind the roughness of his touch or his lack of tenderness.

Jon removed his trousers. Arya placed her left leg above his hips to give him a better angle before Jon could enter her with a careless and swift movement.

She gasped for air and almost immediately bit her bottom lip to contain her sounds of protest. Her eyes were closed as he felt her sweet and wet cunt tightly surrounding his cock.

He claim her mouth again as his hips start to move slowly. At each thrust he could hear her protesting a bit. Arya was absurdly tight and tense under the weight of his body. He kissed her temples, cheeks and neck as his hands roamed all over her naked body.

Her hands started mimicking his as they kissed. Her hips adjusted to move in sync with is. Jon could tell she was relaxing under his touch and it didn’t take long for her moans to echo all over the dark forest.

The eyes of the heart tree observed them moving together in that ancient dance. He could hear the sounds of other couples also hidden in the forest to enjoy a moment of passion. Jon looked deep withing her dark eyes as they moved. Their bodies and souls connected in the most intimate way possible.

Arya held him tight in her arms as Jon increased the movement. At that point he knew he wouldn’t be able to last long. He felt her tightening around him as her body convulsed with waves of sheer pleasure. He kissed her lips and allowed his body to follow her in a powerful orgasm.

Jon could barely think for a second. He remained motionless as his cock softened inside her. His breath still uneven as Arya’s fingers caressed his hair.

She looked beautiful under his body, with her cheeks flushed, mouth slightly open and messy hair. Jon was pretty sure he wouldn’t mind looking at her like that for the rest of his life, even if in many ways Arya remained his little sister.

It would be a lie to say that the past no longer weighted on his shoulders. Distance had helped to keep his desires in check, but after everything was said and done it was impossible to ignore the obvious. He loved her. Not as a brother dutifully loves his sister, but as a man loves a woman.

Arya looked away for a second and pulled him away. Her hand reached for her dress abandoned near the heart tree to cover her body.

His eyes roamed her naked body and got detained at the blood between her tights for a second. A wave of pride and disgust took him all of a sudden.

_She was a maiden indeed._ The thought came to his mind as if the simple idea of Arya being a maiden was just too odd for him to believe and yet...It felt right somehow.

“I should probably go back to the castle.” She said shyly.

“Nobody will ask for you until tomorrow morning.” He pointed while his hand played with a lock of her hair. “Maybe we should stay a little longer.”

“Bran...He is...” She tried to formulate a coherent thought without much success.

“Probably too busy with his new wife to even think about us.” Jon replied gently. “Did I hurt you?”

“Not really.” Arya sounded embarrassed as his fingers brushed the skin of her shoulder.

“Did you like it?” He asked out of boldness. Arya lowered her eyes and didn’t say a thing.

He pulled her chin up so she would look at him properly. His mouth kissed hers once more. This time his kiss was gentle and meticulous as his hands caressed her hair and face.

His hands brought her body closer to his once more and Arya answered to his call without hesitation. Later he would think about duty, honor and compensations for dishonoring Lord Stark’s sister. Bran might even come to hate him for what he did to Arya.

“We shouldn’t...” She said it between his lips as he laid her down once more.

“Isn’t it the purpose of this festival?” His voice came out heavy with unconsumed lust as his right hand slid over her bare tights, reaching for her sex once more. “Isn’t it the proper way to honor the old gods?”

His fingers touched the tender spot between her legs, making Arya moan against his lips. Her resistances soon vanished as the old gods watched them engaging in lovemaking again and again,

Every time he entered her along the night felt like a holly experience. Arya was for all intents and purposes the personification of Earth. To love her, do worship her naked body was his honor and pleasure as devotee.

Her feverish voice moaned and called his name in the dead of night, just like other women did to their lovers in the woods. The light dancing all over their naked bodies as if they had been touched by the blesses of fire and warmth. Tension and resistance vanished from her and Arya surrendered to the pleasure.

_The blood of her maidenhead mixed with my seed...A worthy sacrifice to the old gods_.

Arya fell asleep within his arms after long hours of shared pleasure. Her body covered with his smell and stained with coal and paint.

She hid her face in his chest once the sun slowly raised in the horizon. Jon kissed her forehead and cheek to wake her up so they could go back to the castle and prepare for the day.

The days that followed were confusing and vertiginous, filled with a number of games, feasts and endless discussions between King Jon and Lord Stark.

As they road back south after a month detained at Winterfell, Jon could barely contain his prideful grin. Arya rode ahead of him on her own chestnut mare. He had traveled North to attend to a wedding and then traveled back South with his new bride.

 

♀♂

 

_Septons would say that Lord Stark’s wedding had been a horrendous demonstration of sacrilege and dark magic. If that was the case, nobody ever complained about it for that year had been known for the centuries to come as The Great Spring._

_King Jon wedded Lady Arya Stark a week after Lord Brandon’s wedding. When he brought his new bride to the capitol it was said that the Queen was already two months gone in her pregnancy. Prince Robb’s birth was celebrated all over the country along with the harvest._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> After reading a few metas about the Jon Snow and the Corn King the little witch in me asked why the hell a Beltane Smut wasn't a thing in this fandom.  
> Also I wanted to honor all the elements connected to femininity, fertility and motherhood in Arya's arcs. From her dress of acorns to the water dance and all the water/moon references...Arya collects many symbols related to the feminine forces of the world.  
> I took several liberties with this fic, but the celebrations are loosely based on the traditional Beltane's rites. I guess it fits the concept of the old gods, since they are in their essence very much like nature gods.  
> Arya is about 14/15 years old in this, so I don't think it to be absurd that she is a maiden. I wanted her to be a maiden in this because of the traditional symbolism associated with Beltane.  
> I hope you'll enjoy it and reviews are always appreciated.


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